Thursday, December 29, 2011

Sometimes I worry about who/doesn't read(s) these/ Defacing anonymity.

Electronic Devices: Off

So here I am,
Back where it began.
The wheels will touch
Though I won’t remember much,
47 years from now
I’ll just have the ink on this page,
And recollections, just recollections
‘Cause I can’t blame an allergic reaction
To goodbyes, and I cry
Street artists & strangers
Goddamnit Steel city
Strangers, that’s all.
Cold, but it’s all I know.
Fasten your seatbelts,
Said the oddly unattractive sign
Looking back,
At words I wrote a time ago,
I thought I made mistakes then
But all I did was make my bed,
Though now I’ve dealt with the
Crimes laid in it, the best of plans
But linen allusions can often go wrong.

“Ladies and Gentlemen we’ll be landing
Soon the curr-“
My turn to talk,
My plane,
My time,
it’s dark and it’s a city I don’t want anymore.
My stomach dropped, like a bad name and
The thoughts that come with you.
“Say your goodbyes already”
Why should I?
Maybe I should…
There’s a cute girl in front of me,
don’t know her but I care.
Goodbye mildly attractive girl.
I thought about writing you a note
But I’m far too socially awkward
I’ve even stopped rhyming
Back home.
If I even knew what lay ahead,
I think I would schedule another round trip.
But I don’t, so I turned my phone back on.
I shouldn’t have,
But no one told me.
Until now.


My Lord are teens so horny
Drink, Fuck, Smoke.

It’ll kill you we said.
We lied.

Profanity, Sobriety, Society
We are all they know,
So who are they
Show for?
Not like we’re watching.
Let me rephrase that,
Not like we’re entertained.


Two very odd poems... Not even sure if I like them myself.
The first I obviously wrote on a plane a long time ago and the other I just scrawled out, probably angrily.There was a certain stint of time when I was very flowery, almost campy and especially very rhyme-y. There is also another period of time where I wrote some more vulgar, angry, honest things. Slowly transitioning into a place in between where I actually like what I'm writing. The last one, and there are several like it are just short bursts, not enough thoughts for a good whole poem but enough emotion for a small rant. E.T.T.Y.W.W.K. stands for Everything They Taught You Was Wrong Kids, which is written on my lighter. (Odd little fact, I don't really smoke, but I love fire, not in a pyromaniac way. Fire is the reason I started writing. Ashes in the Wind was my first poem but that's a story for another time) It's been a long time since I've posted anything. I hope all of your Christmas's were good, and the New Year is upon us.

I don't know if i'll miss 2011, as far as years go it was a bit of a bastard.

C.B. Franz

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